by Dee Dawning
"It's a girl and no, I don't need to see her,” I replied. I suppose I should have shown more concern, but somehow, with Rachel sitting right there, looking like the cover of a glamour magazine, I couldn't seem to put much emphasis on it.
A twinkle formed in her eyes, leading to a mischievous smile. “Oh. I get it. It was Carol and you thought you were stood up."
My jaw dropped in amazement. “How the heck..."
Clearly enjoying herself, Rachel gave a little nonchalant shrug and explained, “Because you mumbled, ‘fuck Carol’ earlier.” She flicked a glance to my eyes before continuing, “Were you expecting to get laid tonight, by Carol?"
"I wouldn't have minded.” Giving her my best ‘forthright and sincere’ grin, “I'd rather do it with you, but that's not likely to happen."
I expected this to embarrass Rachel and she did pause for a moment before answering me. “Oh, it's possible, but not unless I let it happen. I love sex, but I don't sleep with just anyone, which, brings me to the point I was going to make—"
She'd hit the right button with me. A girl after my own dick ... er ... heart. She loved sex, too! Not paying much attention to whatever she had to say after that fact, I couldn't resist the impulse to kiss those impertinent lips.
This time, it was my tongue seeking hers. At first, in apparent pique, she wasn't going to allow it. But her miff was short lived against the onslaught of my clever tongue. She gave in and opened her mouth. Her breath was fresh, like a bubbling mountain creek. As her tongue intercepted mine, my cock sprung to life and strained the front of my trousers for release. My right arm swept around her shoulder and my other hand made a foray to her halter, sliding under the material, fondling her breast. Her gasp became a hum deep in her throat and when my fingers diddled her jutting nipple, the hum changed in pitch and became a moan.
Suddenly, pulling away, she angrily jerked and slapped my hand away from her halter. She's a fiery one!
"You ... are doing the exact opposite of what you said. You swore ... if I were sitting next to you, naked ... you wouldn't lay a hand on me. That we would just talk. Now...” Her startling grey-blue eyes snapped fire at me, “You turn into eight arm Elmer and are all over me!"
Oh boy! I stepped into it this time. “Um ... would it help to remind you, you're not naked and therefore it doesn't count?"
She glared at me for about three seconds more before bursting out in laughter. Her infectious mirth had me chuckling along with her in a certain amount of relief.
Whew! “No, really, Rachel. I'm sorry. I find you so incredibly attractive, that I just got carried away."
A coy smile formed on her lips. “As I find you extremely attractive and that's the only reason that I'm still here. Now, if you do this while I'm clothed, what would you do if I really was naked?"
I crossed my fingers over my heart and then raised both hands, palms outward, “Hand over heart, honest to God's truth, we would just talk."
"That sounds a little disingenuous after what you just did, but we'll see. Here's the deal. We won't go to your house as you suggested, but I'm willing to go somewhere to be alone."
Now, we're getting somewhere. “Where?"
Taking my hand again she said, “Assuming you agree, first you take me back to Pokey's to get my car, then you can follow me to my hotel."
For some reason, I was surprised and ... disappointed? Why? “You have a hotel room? You don't live in Las Vegas?"
"Yes, to the first question, the answer to the second is no, is that a problem?"
"I guess not. How much longer will you be here?"
"A little over a week.” Rachel smiled wickedly. “Are you ready to get naked at the Hilton?"
I could sense my eyes widen. Did she say naked? “Naked? What do you mean?"
With a wicked smile as wide as the Mississippi, she tugged at my arm and said, “C'mon. You'll see.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Two
Getting Naked at the Hilton
"Sex isn't dirty! It's a celebration ... of life!"
—Rachel Cook
I dug my keycard out of my handbag and passed it to Scott. His hand shook as he swiped the card through the card slot. He must be as nervous as I am. When the light turned green, he opened the door and handed the card back. In a fluster, I dropped the card and while both bent down to retrieve the card, we bumped heads. I laughed, rubbing my forehead ruefully and he smiled.
"Sorry, my fault,” he said standing back up.
Like a noble gentleman, he bent slightly and holding the door open, bid me entry into room twenty-one twenty-two. “Mademoiselle, veuillez entre. Please enter, Miss."
Scott's invitation in French broke the ice. Smiling widely, I curtsied and responded, “Merci, Monsieur,” and stepped in.
The suite consisted of a living room, a small kitchen and two separate bedrooms.
Scott glanced around and headed straight for the picture window, which overlooked Paradise Road and the Strip.
"Make yourself at home,” I said. “I'll be right back.” My plan was to slip into my bedroom and make myself more comfortable.
When Scott didn't answer, I paused at the doorway and glanced back. “Did you hear me?"
He turned slightly and flashed a broad grin. “Yes. I can't wait. I'll check out the beautiful view while you're gone."
"It's beautiful, all right. I'll only be a couple minutes.” Scott's preoccupation allowed me to slip into the bedroom. I didn't think Scott knew what I had in mind and if I thought too much, I might have talked myself out of it. Might have come up with some other ‘getting to know you’ approach. Shedding my clothes, I slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower.
Still drying off, I scribbled a list upon the Hilton scratch pad on the nightstand. I reached into the closet and pulled down two complementary Hilton Robes, tore the cellophane wrapping off one and shrugged into it. I tucked the other robe under my arm and went back into the living room. We'll just see if he can really talk and not touch like he says!
Scott must have heard me coming. Never taking his eyes from the view, he said, “You know, I can't get over it. This view is magnificent."
I was more interested in the view of Scott's tight buns. I bet they're delicious naked. “You know, you might want to turn around and check out the view on this side of the window.” I can do this.
Turning around, his eyes bulged when I opened up my robe.
"What do you think of this scenery?” I resisted the urge to close the robe and giggled nervously.
* * * *
When Rachel opened her robe showing the works, I was flabbergasted. When she giggled and didn't close the robe, I realized she wasn't just flashing me. That's when I understood what she meant by getting naked at the Hilton.
How in hell, am I going to keep my hands off while we talk?
Her athletic, lean body flaunted its beauty like a work of art. High, firm breasts with light brown nipples, and flat stomach flowing into graceful thighs, had my mouth watering and my cock straining. When she took the robe off, tossed it on the couch and turned around to show me the everything she had, I had to bite my tongue to keep from groaning out loud.
"I've never done anything like this before.” She performed a sexy pirouette then a strut around the coffee table. “This must be how a stripper feels. It's a thrill having your intense gaze boring in on me. I trust you like what you see?"
I swallowed and choked. Clearing my throat, I started again. “Oh yeah, baby. I'm lovin’ it!"
She had thin muscled legs like a dancer, terminating in the very fine buttocks that I had felt up at Pussy Cat's. Her only adornments were the pearl and diamond pin in her navel and the colorful necklace I remembered from the club. Otherwise, she was naked. Beautiful, luscious and fuckably naked. Ooh, this is going to be so hard.
After spinning slowly three times and prancing around the coffee table, she sprawled onto the sofa. “What do you think?"
"Fantastic,” I murmur
ed huskily.
She smiled and said, “You're sweet. What about my flat chest?"
"Beautiful.” My eyebrows lifted, though my eyes didn't stray from the minute movement of her breasts, which rose and fell with her breathing. That movement mesmerized me.
She sighed exasperatedly. “How about my rear?"
My eyes fixed upon hers. Was she serious? She wanted me to pick her body apart like a grocery list? “Exquisite."
She smiled. “You're good for my ego.” Turning serious. “Is there anything you don't like? Nobody's perfect."
"You are! You're beautiful,” I replied, a little incredulous. “If you're fishing for compliments to get me horny as hell,” I gave a ‘come hither’ wave of my hand, “come here and I'll show you just how beautiful you are and horny I am."
At least she smiled before she wagged the “naughty-naughty” signal at me. “It's time for you to shed your clothes, too. Then we can talk. Here's a robe for you if you want it."
"Will I get to wear it very long?” I asked, starting to unbutton my shirt.
"Not really. Being naked in front of you makes me nervous as a turkey in November. I need a drink. How about you?
"Gonna get me drunk to loosen up my inhibitions, huh?"
She laughed an infectious laugh. “Yeah, I felt your inhibitions on the dance floor. Do you want a drink or not."
"Sweetheart, I'll take whatever you're offering."
She sashayed to the mini-bar. “Good. Right now, I'm only offering wine. Let's see. How about a chilled bottle of Riesling?
"Fine."
I'll pour us a glass while you get undressed. Remember, I'll be watching. Do it slowly, I want to savor this.” She winked, “haven't seen a man strip since Chippendales. If you'd like, you can take a quickie.” She giggled. “A shower, that is."
"You're all heart. I guess I'll skip the robe. This isn't fair since I'm hard as a board."
Her eyes lit up. “Oh, goody. I can't wait to see that."
"Rachel, you are too much. What are we going to talk about?"
"I have this list I made up. Just a short list to start with and to get the vital statistics out of the way. Come here and look it over."
Down to my briefs, I went to the mini-bar. “Let's see."
She mimicked a whistle. “Ooh, you are hard.” Her crooked smile was back. “May I have the honor of unveiling your manhood? Please?"
Blushing, I responded, “Only if you do something with it."
"Oh, I will. Once I see it,” giggling, she said, “I plan on ignoring it."
She knelt before me, and a more enticing view is hard to define. The crown of my erect cock was already pushing at the elastic waistband of my briefs, mere inches from her luscious mouth. Out came the elastic and down an inch uncovering the head and glancing up at me, she licked her lips. I laughed, hiding the thrill coursing through me. Then she pulled the briefs down another two inches. “Oh, this is so exciting. Just like Chippendales."
I felt my eyebrows rise, “You took a guy's briefs off in Chippendales?"
Her eyes twinkled mischievously. “More like cock slings but don't worry about me. Read your list."
"Cock slings?"
"Read!"
"As you wish my sex goddess. Height—six-two. Weight—one-ninety-five. Age—Twenty-eight."
Dragging my briefs down to the floor, my erection became tangled in her hair as she brushed by. She grabbed it and disentangled it from her hair. Oh, fuck! Her touch felt wonderful. I almost lost it when she squeezed it hard one time.
"Oooh!” I groaned as my erection pushed back begging for more.
Rising, she said, “Sorry. Geez, it is hard as a board. A rather handsome prick, as pricks go.” She winked and said, “We make a good couple—perfect sized prick and beautiful boobs."
Unable to resist her charm, I cracked up and took her in my arms. Holding her like that, I felt a shock of heat spreading through my body. Abruptly, she jerked away.
"You held me! Do you realize what that does to someone as aroused as I am?"
Still unsettled from having my dick squeezed, remembering how exciting it felt to have it rubbing against her naked body, I replied, “Hey, I'm aroused too. Let's just go in the bedroom and enjoy the sensation. We'll start with you wrapping your legs around my head while I oralize your pussy."
"NO! God damn it! We are going to do this my way or you can leave."
I raised my hands in surrender. “All right. We'll do it your way because I'm not ready to leave."
"Good. Go over there and sit on the couch. I'll bring our glasses over."
She brought two glasses and the bottle over and sat down next to me. Picking up her glass and taking a sip she suggested, “Finish your list."
I sighed. “Party affiliation—Independent.
"Race—White. What kind of question is that?"
"An important one."
"Have you ever used the ‘N’ word? This is crazy.” I flicked my hand to the side, wrinkling the paper a little in exasperation.
"Just answer the question. Please,” Her voice seemed impatient, less playful.
"Why? What's that have—"
Rachel cut in, “All right. Let me give you my vital statistics."
"Height—five-five. Weight—one-twelve. Age—twenty-six. Party affiliation—Democrat."
Her gaze wandered from the list to me, studying me. “Race—mixed."
Her eyes fixed on me intently. “Has the ‘N’ word ever been used on you ... Yes."
This shocked me. I couldn't believe how obtuse I'd been. “Wow, I never would have suspected."
"Well, I am. My Mother is black—Biafran to be exact. Do you still want to sleep with me?"
I sat for a moment, unable to speak at the implication of her question. “What does that have to do with anything? Why should it matter that you're mixed?” I shook my head, dismissing any conclusions she might have had of me. “You are a beautiful, intelligent woman. I wouldn't care if you were black, brown, or blue."
"You're sure?” She asked, her voice cracking from apparent anxiety. “I'm no shrinking violet—I've been intimate with Black and White men,” smiling coquettishly, she continued, “though somehow I seem to have missed the blue ones."
I chuckled. “Not at the same time I hope."
Flashing a devilish look, she said, “Only in my wilder days. You missed out, I'm a recovering sex addict and don't do ménages anymore. Except maybe, if you had a twin, I might consider it."
"Yeah, right. I'm sure. Would you like me to kiss your clit now?” I asked teasingly
"Tempting ... but.” She rose and headed toward the bedroom and I started to follow. “No, you stay there."
Returning and sitting next to me, she showed me her watch, though I only gave it passing attention. My whole focus was on the seductive jiggle of her breasts as she bounced down beside me. “It is two-twenty. If you answer all of my questions in the next hour, we will go in the bedroom and I will make mad passionate love to you. Start by telling me all about your own personal imp—Reverend Pat Robertson."
* * * *
My left eye opened to bright light. When the other eye opened the mountains were visible on the horizon, the same view I woke up to for the last two weeks. Gazing around the room, it came to me that I had slept on the couch of my Hilton suite. There was weight on my upper body and then I saw an arm draped across my chest and a hand upon my breast. Hmmm. Did I tie one on last night? No, there was somebody. It was beginning to come back. Scott, my dreamboat. My watch laid upon the coffee table so I tried to sit up and reach for it but couldn't. The hand on my breast stopped me. Carefully moving his arm, I retrieved my watch. Twelve-thirty PM. Did we get it on? Right here on the couch? Nah, I'd remember if I had sex, I'm sure.
Once up, I slipped into one of the robes. Scott was lying there, still sleeping, still naked. A rush of desire surged through me at the sight of his erection. I tried to remember whether it had been inside me, but no lusty memories flashed through
my mind and that is something I wouldn't forget. After removing the wrapping from the other robe, I draped it over him, hesitating for just a moment before covering his cock. He rolled over but didn't wake up.
Entering the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, I recapped what I knew about him. He worked for a public relations firm, handling PR and advertising for many of the hotels. He'd grown up in Vegas, having relocated here as a youngster and later earned a degree in Hotel Administration from U.N.L.V. Mark, his only sibling, was a marine lieutenant, due to be shipped overseas, but thankfully to South Korea, instead of one of the meat grinders. Both of his parents, who had been well off, died in a private plane crash, leaving his brother and him financially stable.
I remember all this and can't remember if I had sex? It must have been that second bottle of wine.
Bringing my coffee from the kitchen a couple of minutes later, I noticed Scott was missing. Entering the bedroom, I heard the shower.
"Hmmm.” I disrobed and slipped into the shower stall. “You don't mind if I join you, do you?"
His eyes seemed to devour me. Grinning, he shook his head and said, “I would never refuse a beautiful woman the opportunity to wash my back."
I laughed. “You are so romantic. Scott ... did we make mad passionate love last night?"
"If we did, I want a repeat because I don't remember it."
"I don't remember either. I think if we did, we'd remember. Besides, I'm sure we would've woken in the bedroom."
"Rachel. Last night, you asked me most of the questions, but I have a lot of questions myself."
"Like what?"
Scrunching his lips, he answered, “Where you are from? What you do for a living? What are you doing in Las Vegas? And that's just for starters. After that, I have a couple of personal questions about your family."
My stomach lurched. I wasn't up to answering questions yet. “I'll answer all your questions later. After we get dressed, we'll go to the Coffee Shop and you can ask me anything you want.” Reaching down I grasped his hard cock. “But for now, since you were so good last night, I want to reward you. Besides, I want to see if this fancy cock feels as good as it looks."
